


my lips, your lips, apocalypse.

by cemeteryrat



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: I hope you all enjoy it, M/M, hello this is angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemeteryrat/pseuds/cemeteryrat
Summary: It’s not that Stan isn’t happy. He is. But he’d be happier with him. [DISCONTINUED]





	1. stanley uris isn’t happy

**Author's Note:**

> guess who listened to ‘apocalypse’ by cigarettes after sex and got inspired to write! i may add on more but for now this is a one shot unless people want more!

Stan’s hands clutched around his boyfriend’s, his eyes reaching towards the end of the hallway. He was searching, he didn’t know what for exactly, because he knew what he’d see. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy. He was very happy with Bill. Bill gave him so many things that others had previously never given him, like love and copious amounts of affection. It had been 11 months, close to a year, since they had started dating. All was well, it had to be.

He knew he had to shake it off, but it was just something he couldn’t. The almost kisses in the empty stairwells. The wanting glances as they hung out in the Barrens. The one time Stan’s lips made contact with his cheek and both of them had blushed so hard that they couldn’t look at each other as they made their way to theatre class.

It was all this and more that made Stan fall deeper and deeper into something—not quite love, maybe something a bit more profound. 

“Babe? Babe.” Bill’s voice was bringing his mind down from the clouds, back into the tragic reality. 

“Mhm? What is it?” 

“I’ll see you after baseball practice?” Bill’s blue eyes looked into his with a mixture of worry and confusion. 

“Right, yeah.” Stan forced a smile and pecked Bill on the cheek. In the short span of time he had been searching (more than that, spacing out), Stan hadn’t noticed as Eddie made his way to the pair with Richie on his arm, who waved a cheerful hello to Stan. The two exchanged some words, which he could barely make out and Eddie had left with Bill for..for what? Stan couldn’t remember. He was too entranced by the fact that he now stood in an empty hallway with Richie Tozier. 

“Yowza Stan! What’s got you looking so red?” The voice seemed to come from up close, closer than expected and Stan’s heart sped up tenfold. 

“H-Huh?” Looking up, he saw chocolate brown eyes meet his and he knew Richie would get in his face and do a bit about ‘what’s going on in there, Stan the Man?’ while tapping on his skull. But Stan didn’t laugh or answer. An upset looked made its way onto his face and Richie proceeded to back up, confusion filling his own face. 

“What’s the matter?” Richie inquired, curls flopping into his eyes, obscuring them slightly. Stan couldn’t read what they said and he mentally freaked out, panicking about what to say. 

“Nothing, just lost in thought.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, almost kicking himself for lying to the one person he shouldn’t have to lie to. They were best friends, after all. 

“I know you better than that, Staniel. Now, what is it?” And that was definitely the most difficult question Stan had received in his life, at this point in it, anyways. He didn’t know what it was, exactly. Maybe it was the way he felt so strung along. Maybe it was the knowing that hurt them both. Maybe it was Eddie and Bill. Or maybe it was themselves. 

“You.” Stan’s reply didn’t shock Richie one bit. 

“We talked about this. I promised you, senior year. But you can’t revolve your whole life around that, Stan.” To Stan, there was almost an icy air to Richie’s words, biting at his ears. 

“But what if senior year doesn’t happen? What then? I can’t just be strung along like this! I’m..I tried breaking up with Bill,” He said hurriedly and quietly, as to avoid anyone else passing by hearing. “Everyone got mad at me and Bill was crushed! I can’t put him through that again..but I want to be with you..” 

“I’m with Eddie, Stan. And who knows where it’ll go, to be honest.” Richie sighed, frustrated all of a sudden. “If you’re going to be like this, I don’t know what to tell you. I repeat you cannot, and I mean CANNOT, revolve your life around me. It isn’t healthy.” 

“And you know what else isn’t healthy? Telling me after hugging me that if things were different you’d have kissed me in that stairwell.” Stan spit back, chest feeling heavy. He turned around, facing the hallway before him and his feet carried him away. He had no idea where he was going.

All he knew is that he wanted to be away from Richie Tozier.


	2. stanley uris takes a bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan contemplates everything and lies to himself. He almost wishes he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so this is written because so many people on tumblr and here wanted a part two? so uh yeah this may become a multi chapter slow burn deal! hope you all enjoy!   
> (ps. follow my tumblr @richiethottozier)

His feet carried him senselessly and aimlessly, which brought him to the baseball field. Stan squinted in the light of the sun, shielding his eyes to look for his boyfriend. Eventually, he spotted him, smiling weakly to himself. Stan had decided during his walk that he would try to make himself work with Bill. He liked—no he loved Bill. It was just his anxiety getting to his head again, as it usually did. 

Sitting on the bleachers, he continued to watch Bill and his team play the game for a few hours. The sun beat down on his back and he was certain he was getting sunburnt, but it was better than trying to go home. Richie lived right next door, how could he avoid him?

Soon enough, the game was finished and Bill, having noticed Stan arrived a bit earlier, made his way over. Stan smiled wide as he saw Bill, slightly faltered, then tried again with his teeth showing. 

“Hi b-babe!” Bill was as cheerful as ever and Stan, wanting so badly to actually feel that way, mimicked him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“Hey there.” His reply came out small, which alarmed Bill. Bill knew about Stan’s anxiety and he flung an arm around him, bringing him close.

“What’s th-he matter?” 

“You’re all sweaty, get off.” Stan jokingly complained. Bill’s face dropped and he looked away. 

“What’s up with you?” He mumbled.

“What do you mean..?” Stan asked hesitantly, palms starting to sweat.   
“Nothings up with me.”

“You’ve just..acted so different since the two days we weren’t together.” Bill finally turned his head back towards Stan and it was then that the curly haired boy placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, pushing him back a little bit with the force of it. They broke away, a hurt look crossing Stan’s face. 

“I love you, Bill. I really do. Those two days..I was confused. I thought it was you, but it was me..it was my anxiety and I just wasn’t in a good place. When I’m without you, I feel like I can’t breathe.” The words felt so wrong in Stan’s mouth, but he said them anyways. Anything for his boyfriend.

Bill stood, putting his hand out, which he graciously accepted.

“Let’s go get milkshakes! My treat.” His boyfriend smiled big, a smile that Stan couldn’t say no to, so of course he obliged and nodded his head ‘yes’. 

Stan got home at almost midnight that night. He stayed out long with Bill just to prove to him (and maybe more to convince himself) that he loved him and wouldn’t leave him again. Stan’s mother was waiting in the kitchen for him when he flicked on the light, nearly scaring the hell out of him.

“Mom—! I know I’m late, I was out with Bill—“ His mother made a small tsk of disapproval but smiled. 

“I’m so glad you’re spending time with him again, Stanny.” She spoke softly, ruffling her much taller son’s hair affectionately. “It’s good to spend time with the ones you love often. Now, I’ll let this slip, but next time, if your father catches you..I’ll just have to let him handle it.” Mrs. Uris laughed, turning away and heading towards her room. 

“Goodnight, Stan.”

“Goodnight, Mom.” Stan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, setting down his keys on the counter. Slowly, he made his way upstairs to his bathroom, stripping his clothes and running the water. 

It was times like these that Stan liked to take baths with lots of floral smelling soaps and maybe even a bath bomb or two mixed in. As the water filled up the tub, he sunk into it until most of his upper body was covered with the bubbles from the soap.

His phone lit up from on the counter, where it was playing music, indicating he had received a message. Reaching carefully for it, his eyes scanned across the screen.

Snapchat from: bitch ass tozier

Stan ignored it, shaking his head. There was no way in hell he would talk to Richie right now. Especially not after earlier that afternoon. Another notification lit up his screen.

iMessage from: richard andrew tozier 

12:39am  
‘yooo stan, answer my snaps’ 

12:40am  
‘)): you can’t ignore me forever staniel’

His phone was cast aside by then, buried in the pile of dirty clothes by the hamper. Richie would just have to wait. His bath water felt colder than it should have been, causing Stan to stand up and towel off. He opened the door to his adjoined room, rifling through his clothes until he found a pair of boxers and pants. 

Stan laid on his bed for what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes. The clock on his wall ticked and tocked, slowly driving him to insanity. He felt horrible. What else could he feel? He liked his best friend and he had a boyfriend. He had almost kissed his best friend and he had a boyfriend. He couldn’t believe himself. Tossing to the right, he stared at the moon shining through his window. 

‘I wish I was the moon. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.’ He thought, sighing. His eyes closed, his body almost allowing him one night of dreaming, but not before the soft light of the moon was blocked. Alarmed, Stan sat up, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

“Richie?!”


	3. stanley uris has a breakdown and realizes he’s screwed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Issac Uris realizes he’s ultimately and utterly screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back by popular demand, here i am on the third day of a writing streak! i can’t resist writing this story!!

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Richie’s voice came muffled from behind the window and Stan promptly got up and unlatched it for Richie. Why he unlatched it, even when he wanted nothing to do with the trashmouth, confused even him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Stan’s voice held a certain amount of venom, an iciness that would freeze out the feistiest of men.

“I came to see you, duh. God, when are you gonna start using that head of yours, Staniel?” Richie reached out to knock lightly on Stan’s curls, but he evaded the touch. 

“Get out.” Richie’s smile dropped, concern overwhelming his features. 

“Stan..”

“I said get..out..!” His voice was barely above a whisper as Stan turned to push Richie towards the window.

“What’s gotten into you?” Richie pushed back, all of a sudden not budging. Stan grew more angry by the second, hot tears springing from his eyes. 

“Just leave me alone! I don’t wanna be your friend anymore! You’re an asshole!” His reply made Richie look down at him, a hand reaching up to wipe tears away from his eyes. 

“Stan, you don’t mean that— we’ve been best friends since third grade..” The taller boys’ voice cracked slightly towards the end, causing Stan to cry even harder. 

“Y-Yes I do. I don’t..I don’t..” He repeated, slowly sinking onto his floor, head in his hands. Richie kneeled down next to him, placing a hand on his back and softly rubbing circles into it. 

“I know you don’t mean it.” Was all that came out of Richie’s mouth. 

Time ticked by seemingly quicker when Richie was around, Stan noted in his head. After about an hour of crying, he lifted his head, Richie’s own puffy face greeting him. 

“I..I’m sorry.” Stan whispered to him, leaning against his bed. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t. You’re just upset.” Richie smiled cautiously, afraid he would cause the boy to cry even more if he even began to joke around. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Alright well..I gotta go. But I’ll be back tomorrow, alright? I’ll come over tomorrow night and we can talk if you want.” Richie stood, crossing to the window. “Next time leave it cracked for me.” He chuckled, throwing both legs out of the window and jumping down, landing with a soft thud. 

The next day didn’t go by any easier. Stan sat in class, thinking about his predicament. He spaced out more than usual during lunch with the Losers. Ben had even pulled him aside in the lunch line and asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t answer. He shouldn’t— well, he couldn’t, was more like it. 

Bill continued to smile and act like everything was fine, but Stan knew it was all bullshit. He was worried about him, about their relationship. He didn’t know if he could fix it. Baseball, among other, more trivial things, interrupted their relationship a lot. Richie interrupted their relationship, on Stan’s part at least. 

At the end of the school day, Stan wished his boyfriend good luck as he gathered books from his locker, mentioning that he would be at home for the evening. He wasn’t feeling well, he told Bill, faking a few coughs. Bill agreed that he should go home and rest, kissing his forehead and walking away with an ‘I love you’ hung in the air for Stan to catch.

He didn’t say it back.

Slamming his locker shut, he made his way outside, keys in hand. Following routine, he went to his car—a beat up old convertible that had been his father’s at some point in time—and unlocked the drivers side door, keys going in the ignition. Stan rifled through his middle console, picking out the aux cord and plugging in his phone, soft music filling his ears and the car. 

He had a lot on his mind usually, but whenever he listened to his music, his mind went blank. He almost felt free of whatever was wrong with him, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, trying to claw its way to the forefront. His hands were shaky upon the wheel and, deciding it was not safe for him to drive at the moment, he parked in a coffee shop parking lot, heart and head feeling heavy.

Getting out of the car, he locked it and went inside the shop, glancing around at all the students studying and hanging out when he spotted them. 

Richie and Eddie were holding hands between two oversized brown chairs, chatting and sipping on their drinks. His heart seemingly fell to the floor and shattered right then and there. He had to escape, before they noticed him, before anyone saw him—

“May I help you, sir?” The barista asked, annoyed at his indecisive actions. “You’re next in line.”

“Uh-uhm..a h-hot chocolate. Whatever size.” He threw ten dollars on the counter, shaking his head. “Keep the change.”

It took under five minutes for the drink to be prepared and as soon as it was, Stan practically ran out of the building. 

Somehow, he managed to make it home and eat a family dinner without crying. His mom, sensing some tension, caught his hand as he tried to jog upstairs. 

“Stanley..are you alright, dear?” She asked with as much concern as a mother could hold for her child. “You seem upset.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” Another lie flew out of his mouth like vomit, leaving a bad aftertaste with it. “Lots of homework too.”

“Alright..well, you can come talk to me if you need anything. I mean it, young man.” Mrs. Uris chuckled, walking away and allowing Stan to finally find solace in his room. 

The first thing he did was study. He studied hard and long, until eleven o’ clock at night, as to avoid his racing thoughts and fears that consumed his whole being. Dazedly, he stretched, glancing at the window. He had gotten his hopes up for nothing, once again. Richie was not going to show up again. 

‘Why would he?’ Stan’s brain mocked him. ‘He’s got more important things to worry about. Unlike you. Pathetic, aren’t you?’ Shutting his anatomy textbook, he grumbled under his breath, angry at his heart for making him even think that Richie would show. 

He followed his nightly ritual after that, crawling into bed with his head facing the window. He left it unlatched, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, his friend would slip in during the night and hold him while he slept.

He knew it wasn’t going to happen, but he knew one thing for sure. He was so screwed. Stanley Isaac Uris was falling in love and he couldn’t stop it.


	4. stanley uris ruins his life yet again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan seems to only ruin his life further. He really needs to get his priorities straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here’s part four! it maybe a little shorter than the rest of them, but chapter 5 is going to be kinda like a bigger chapter that may take a while to write so there’s that to look forward to! thanks for reading everyone <3

Stan woke up the next morning to a pile of half melted snow underneath his window. There were no boot prints, a sure sign that Richie had indeed, never showed up. 

Closing the now frostbitten window, Stan found himself coughing slightly. 

“Maybe it was a bad idea to leave the window open in the dead of winter.” Stan mused aloud, touching the glass panes with his fingertips. He paused for a moment, drawing a sad face on it before wiping it away so he could actually see outside. 

There were kids running around everywhere and Stan assumed it must be a snow day, since Bill was outside—Bill was outside of his house?

“Oh shit.” He mumbled to himself, hurriedly shimmying out of his pajama pants and into a pair of jeans and a sweater. The doorbell rang from downstairs and Stan practically bolted down the stairs, opening the door with fake smoothness. 

“Hi honey!” Stan greeted Bill, putting a hand on the doorframe. “Come on in!”

Bill shook off snow on the porch and entered, kissing Stan gently.  
“I buh-brought you something.” 

“Really?” To answer him, he held out a small box and Stan hesitantly took it. 

“I spent fore-eh-ever trying to pick it out.” Bill’s eyes sparkled and his smile widened tenfold. Stan nodded and swallowed thickly. 

“Bill, I can’t take it.” 

“W-What? Huh? Sure you c-can.” 

“No Bill, that’s not what I mean.” Stan looked down at the floor, placing the gift back in his boyfriend’s hands. A mumble escaped past his lips, a moment in time he still wishes he could take back some days.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” Bill stared at him, dumbfounded. 

“What do you m-mean?” 

“I..I think it’s best if you go.” Still not looking up from the floor, Stan shuffled to the door, opening it.  
Bill didn’t say a word as he exited, just left, leaving the gift in the dish on the side table when Stan had turned away. 

He was gone.

Stan, noticing the gift, took it and ran upstairs to his room. Back against a quietly closed door, he slid down and cried. He cried for the entire morning, stopping shortly before his mom came to get him for breakfast. He put on his usual show during that time, faking his smiles and laughter. But once he was back inside the confines of his room, he lost it once more. 

His eyes blearily looked at the gift box, thrown haphazardly onto his desk. His limbs seemed to move of their own accord, ripping open the box to reveal a silver chain. Picking it up, Stan inspected it, breath halting when he saw a small origami bird charm at the end. 

Stan placed it in his desk’s bottom drawer, buried beneath pens and papers. He felt anger surge through his body, not at Bill, but at himself. How could he be such an idiot? How could he just do that to his boyfriend? 

Stan was like a tornado, ripping photographs and love letters off of his walls, slamming them down into a shoebox, filled with all of his previous important memories. 

It was during his whirlwind that Stan’s mother had let Richie inside, telling him that her son was upstairs and that if he needed anything to come get her. He had knocked on the door, but Stan was too busy.  
Richie opened it, only to find his friend lying down on the floor, his face wet with fresh tears. Stan noticed someone had entered his room and instinctively sprang up, wiping his face. 

“R-Richie?” His nose was plugged up and he wiped it on the sleeve of his sweater. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I came to talk with you..” He scratched at the back of his neck and inspected the doorway.  
“I came by last night but you were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” Richie admitted softly, walking closer to Stan and reaching out an arm to wipe away his tear tracks. 

“What’s got you down, Stan the Man?” 

“I uh, broke up with Bill.” Stan sighed, scrunching up his face.  
“He came by this morning..and I just..did it. Ripped off the bandaid, so to speak.” 

“Oh..wow. I’m so sorry, dude.” Richie enveloped Stan in a hug, rubbing circles onto his back. “You know, this is only high school. And Bill’s a strong guy, he’ll be alright.”

“I can’t help but feel like I broke his heart, Rich.” Stan pulled away, dropping his arms. “You didn’t see the look on his face.” 

“You know..sometimes these things happen for a reason.” Richie smiled sadly, letting out a breath. “You two just aren’t right for each other is all.” In the back of his head, Stan knew how hard Richie was trying to comfort him. The only other time Richie was like this was when the bullying had gotten to Stan and he had sobbed on the bathroom floor for hours, not wanting to come out until he wasn’t Jewish or gay anymore. 

Richie sat at the end of Stan’s bed, toying with the blue duvet. Stan had moved to underneath the covers, curling into a ball. 

“I wish I could disappear.” He admitted to his friend, more tears springing into his eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to go through this anymore.”

Richie fell back onto the pillow next to Stan and turned onto his side to face him.

“If you weren’t here, who would I go to when everything is falling apart?” 

“You could go to Eddie.” Stan’s words bit like the icy winds outside and Richie inwardly shivered. 

They sat in silence, until Stan had seemingly fallen asleep. 

“Who would I be without you, Stan?” Richie took a look at his best friend, slinging an arm over him and closing his eyes.


End file.
